


The Garden of Eden (Yukina x Lisa AU)

by FemmeFairie



Category: BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Apple of Eden, Biblical Reinterpretation, Drama & Romance, F/F, Lesbian Character, Serious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24607411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FemmeFairie/pseuds/FemmeFairie
Summary: Based on the biblical tale of Lilith, the first wife of Adam.Lisa Imai is a second-year University student living alone in a dorm. Her loneliness brings her to discover a fascinating garden at the outskirts of town, run by a mysterious family. When she is found trespassing under the apple trees by the gardener's strange daughter, she is left in a whirlwind romance that teaches her the truth about sin and redemption, as well as what it means to be human in a society that shuns individuality.
Relationships: Imai Lisa/Minato Yukina
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

On her lips I had tasted redemption, sweetened with my innocence, bitter with my tears. 

  
It had been a week since I lingered in her garden, dressed in flowing skirts and white blouses — clothes that made me feel sensual if not playful, hidden thorns on a peony blossom. I had gotten lost in the array of flowers, found myself sniffing the stocks of lavender. Slept under the apple trees. Made the garden my home, if not my life. Until I awoke to the sweetness of apple juice tart on my tongue. 

“Drink,” the voice whispered. I gasped, shutting my mouth as if I could shut out the sweetness. Just how many days had I been visiting this garden? Five, maybe six. It was privately owned by a family, yet the family was never seen when I visited around sunset; working perhaps, or unaware of my daily intrusions. A walk through the flowers, surveying what was new. Drinking from the stems of roses. Sleeping under the apple trees until I awoke to a sky full of stars. Since I left school, it was my sanctuary, if not my obsession — there was something tantalizing about this garden, something magical in each blossom that grew. And, most of all, I was lost; I had nowhere to go. 

A finger on my lips. “Wake up,” the voice crooned, hoarse. “This garden is not meant for someone like  you.” 

_ Someone like me?  _ My eyes opened. A woman of extreme beauty stood above me. Innocence, no, but sharpness — the kind of beauty that drove deep and never was withdrawn. Her plum-coloured lips were held in a knowing smirk. A dress of scarlet satin hugged the full lines of her body. It was a beauty that was full of itself. It was terrifying. 

I could get sucked in with one look, lost in her golden eyes. I peeled my gaze away, pleading innocence. 

And  _ that voice.  _ It was something out of a film noir, sultry and calculated with an air of elegance. Roughened diamonds. It caressed me when she spoke: “Let me guess. You’ve intruded on the basis of loneliness. The garden has a way of seeking out suffering, rooting in despair. However, I am not your saviour nor saint.” 

“And what if I want to stay?” I straightened my back against the tree. She towered over me, immense in her anger. Her purple eyebrows bunched together like lilac blossoms. 

“Then stay.” Her hand caressed my chin, lacquered nails digging into my neck. “I only warned you not to stay, I never said that you were unwelcome.” 

I wasn’t unwelcome? I shouldn’t be here, in this garden. It was too perfect; it was meant to be a prison, a fly trap for untamed desires. And yet, my loneliness spoke volumes. There was nowhere for me to return but my dorm, and there I would be utterly alone again and without motivation.

“And what shall I call you?” Names. Names were important. Perhaps if I could put a face to a name she would become less like a goddess and more like a person. 

Her hand pulled away. “Yukina,” she whispered, “but they call me Lilith around here. This is my garden — my parents don’t understand just how to cultivate it so it was left to me. I grow lonely, however. Which is why we don’t monitor who comes in and out; if the garden seeks you out we let you in.” 

A tilt of her head, eyes hungry like a raven’s. “By the way, your style is interesting. Why wear so much white unless you have a point to prove?” 

I stood up. “I have no point to prove,” I replied, feeling defensive. “I just know that it makes me feel better than I am.” 

“Such a boring colour, though. No passion.” She patted my head. “Yet, everyone who comes here seems to have an air of innocence. That’s why we call it Eden, the first garden. And you, my darling, are the first one to stay with me.” 

Yukina still clutched the ripe apple in her other hand. She brought it to her mouth and licked the remaining juice. “Here, apples change people. Make them understand the world.” She pulled a second apple from the tree; it was brighter, larger, as ripe as a heart. It pulsed in my hand. “Take a bite.” 


	2. Chapter 2

The apple was tart, an explosion of mouth-watering flavors capable of bringing tears to my eyes. I flinched and let go of it; it fell to the ground and lay there, wet and dripping sweet juice. A heart without a home. A carcass. What was to be said of such sweetness? I raised a finger to my lips in disbelief. If anything the apple should have been cruelly bitter, a reflection of the life I had left behind in search of paradise. It should have tasted like sin, like fate. 

It tasted like redemption. 

Her hands, adorned in black gloves that reached up to her forearm, landed on my lips in a smooth, calculated motion. “The sweetness of fruit lies in its truth.” Her voice was a hum; it guided me as would a flute — to my death or to sleep. “To take a bite is to understand yourself, your truth,  _ our  _ truth. Do you feel as if you have opened your eyes?” 

I looked around the garden. What did it mean to have opened my eyes? Did that imply that all my life my eyes had been closed? I thought back to my high school graduation. I had worn a white gown with a lace collar, something you would see at a christening. My steps had been buoyant as I laughed and walked with my friends: Rinko, Ako, Sayo. We had held hands and promised never to let go. 

I let go. 

University was a blur of loneliness. It sucked the optimism out of me. I lost my desire to bake and see friends. I was far away from everyone in a new town, a new world. A butterfly with paper-thin wings; a voice captured in a jar.

And then I found this garden. What had changed since I first dozed under the apple boughs? I was no longer alone. Even without the goddess, I sensed a presence: something that knew what it was like to be enlightened and in love. The trees beckoned to me, leering with snakes. 

“Do you have a home to return to?” Pity hollowed out her voice, taking out the edge. I felt myself falling forward into her chest. “Do you? Do you?” 

“I do not.” 

“So you had a home and still felt alone. You found a home and still felt small. I understand that.” 

The apple between us. It still dripped sweet yellow juice that gleamed between our bent knees. The fabric of her scarlet dress smelled like rich soil. “Then stay,” she reasoned. “Stay and you will grow stronger and won’t need me. Stay and you will have certainty of who you are.” 

I clutched my knees. “And what will  _ you  _ get out of it?” 

“I’ll have a friend.” I raised my eyebrows incredulously. A woman who could speak like an actress, stand like a politician, look like a model. Who’s form seemed to shift in seconds; only human half of the time. I was to believe she was looking for friends when all I had to offer was my naivety? 

“I find lies revolting. Believe my words.” She ground the apple to a pulp with the heel of her boot. “See how fragile it is? The truth always has a way of telling itself. That’s why I wear red — there’s no need to feign purity. Look at the flowers: they will show their fertility without a second glance. Why should we run from what the world expects from us? Why don’t we just seize it?” 

“So, what can I do for you?” Innocence. Was I too innocent? 

The sun settled behind the trees. Violets glimmered darkly from behind curtains of leaves. “Live with me. Breathe with me. Then we will see what becomes of loneliness.” 

Her footsteps echoed down the gravel path. And, wordlessly, I followed. 

  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

_ We must cultivate our garden.  _ Who said that again?

The quote had resurfaced twice now; once as I had walked with Yukina, again as I tended to her rosebeds, my hands wet with earth and water from the silver watering can. It meant something — it was taught in my philosophy class on the first day. Someone had said it, a philosopher, and when they did, they had meant this: We must tend to ourselves first in order to tend to the world; we must learn ourselves before we learn others. 

The roses were like glass; they pricked at my sensitive, gloveless hands. I turned to Yukina, who was watching from afar. “What is the meaning of this?” I nipped at the cut on my finger, relishing the strange metallic taste. Her brows furrowed. “I mean, what is it this task should teach me?” 

“To tend to yourself,” Yukina replied, a finger against her lip, “as to tend to a flower is to feel the pulse of your own life, the fragility. I want you to hone in on that so that when night falls you are less empty, and when dawn occurs you are then slightly full.” 

Was I truly to experience pleasure in the wake of pain? Physical labour to restore myself mentally? It seemed like a trick, a joke, and yet . . . 

Yukina pointed to the darkening sky. The moon lay inset like a lost pearl. “Let us return to the house. I wish to show you your new life. You’ll notice our home is full of empty space; it is that emptiness that will remind you of fullness.” 

I poured the last bits of water into the soil. I tried to imagine the roots, drinking it up greedily, ravenous for life. I noticed the similarities between Yukina and the scarlet petals; her lips, when relaxed, were as full as a new blossom. “Well, then. Let’s go.” 

The garden was even more beautiful when immersed in darkness. Nightbirds sung from hidden eaves, branches rustled in the apple boughs, crickets crooned from around the pond of water lilies. And then there was Yukina, the Queen of all that was beautiful — the maker at the heart of the world. Even though I was lost and away from home I couldn’t help but feel as if she could heal me too, if I tried hard enough. Just like the moon I will shroud myself in darkness before I can emerge gleaming. 

The house was large. Two stories, dark wooden walls. The windows were inlaid with gold etchings. Yukina turned a key in the lock, bringing us into a room full of quiet murmurings — a grandfather clock ticking, a grumbling oven, something that sounded vaguely like a mouse’s squeak in the kitchen. 

I followed Yukina’s cascading hair up the stairs, creaking at certain intervals. Eventually we reached a hall with three separate rooms: I was led to the first one — the smallest and the most unfurnished. 

“Your room,” Yukina said. “I know it’s not much, but it’s only for nighttime. Most of our lessons will be held in the gardens, of course.” 

A small smile creased my lips. As exhausted as I was, I was relieved to be far away from home. If I could escape my loneliness for just a bit, then this was to be enough. A single bed with pink sheets, a painting of a blue rose; things that seemed to contrast greatly and yet added character. Was this to be my new home until I returned to who I was? 

“Thank you.” 

She turned to me, startled. “For what?” 

“I just feel as if . . . I’ve been given something to do. At least for the time being.” 

Yukina stepped forward. A gloved hand pressed against my cheek. “I cannot tell you how important this is for me as well,” she admitted. “I have been lonely ever since my parents left for vacation.” Her eyes darkened. “But, most of all, I have been hollow ever since the man I loved broke me and made me his doll. I cannot rid myself of his touch — he lingers here like a ghost. In the walls, in the doors.” 

_ Like a ghost.  _ “Who is to say that I’m not a ghost? Everyone seems to think I have disappeared. Everything I touch disappears too.” 

“If you’re a ghost, Lisa, then you are the only afterlife I seek.” Her bangs had fallen over her eyes again; I could no longer read her expression. She had turned away. 

“Wait,” I called, reaching out my hand. Why was I trying to grasp something again? 

“Yes?” 

“It’s nothing. Goodnight, Yukina.” 

“Goodnight, Lisa.” 

I pulled the covers over my nose, breathing in the earthy scent. Freshening up seemed like something foreign so instead I stared out at the moon out the window — a silver eye. It saw everything, but what could it possibly see in me? An empty shell perhaps, but was it a ghost or something more?


End file.
